Elementun Vinculum Animus
by Seraphim's Fate
Summary: A whisper from a mysterious sourse reveals a transformation so terrible it is not even fathomable,abhorred by all including the dark lord.Harry must subject himself to the torment of this unspeakable fate for freedom. Failures spells death for loved ones.


Chapter One: A Month's Worth of Sleep Deprivation

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but this unique plot.

The summer afternoon was pleasantly cool and sunny, a gentle breeze filtering through the trimmed shrubs and perfectly green lawns of Privet drive, a much needed relief from the scorching temperatures that had been persistent for weeks on end. Naturally the residents of Privet Drive were outside in the unusually crisp air, puttering about in the garden beds, or, like the Dursleys, obnoxiously bragging about a new company car for rest neighbors to hear, although the praise for the vehicle generally went on unnoticed. Children ran up and down the street shrieking with delight as they dashed through the recently pruned gardens in an active game of tag earning disapproving glares from the adults outside. For once everyone was filled with content and peace, everyone with exception of one lone teenage boy.

Harry Potter lay in the grass beside the bench he had painted five years ago, off to the side of the Dursley household, hidden by Petunia's wilting rose bushes, trying desperately to somehow meditate (though he had never really been one to appreciate the art of sitting around for an hour, doing nothing but keeping his mind clear – Hermione would say it was unproductive) and drive out all the anxiety that jarred his craggy mind. Harry was worn thin these days and strangers on the street often did a double take when they saw the ghostly form of Harry Potter shuffling down the lane.

He smirked as he recalled one small blue-eyed child who had innocently proclaim, "Geez mister did you get hit by a bus or something? 'Cause you sure as heck look awful…"

Her mother turned a lovely shade of red, lightly spanking the little girl's bottom and hissing, " Susan if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, mind your own business!

The petite, frazzled blond turned her identical blue eyes to Harry as he suppressed a good-natured chuckle at her exasperate expression. ' Children speak purely…'

Her eyes searched his with reproach,

"I apologize for her… remark, she's still learning her manners…. If you don't mind me saying so though, do try to get some sleep son, you do look a bit worn. Susie! Get back here… oh, you're going to be the death of Mommy one of these days!"

Oh, indeed, he was tired…

Harry had stopped growing at '5'11", still short and dwarfed by many of his friends. It was consoling that height wasn't everything, ( he had delayed the dark lord numerous times while still under '5'5') although he was a bit disappointed that he'd never see eye-to-eye with Ron. His physic had filled out nicely due to the odd and end jobs he had often taken through July in hopes of working himself into exhaustion as insomnia often plagued him at night. Hours of lifting, carting, mowing and gardening left him chiseled and toned his muscles smooth as granite; he also received the benefit of a tan, although sleepless nights left him ghastly. His hair was still a mess, sticking up with more conviction each time he attempted to flatten it. Ginny had previously christened it sex hair, and the thought of her laughter brought an intense and selfish longing- one he'd dealt with ever since he pushed her away. The most dramatic change, however, was in his eyes. The once bright emerald orbs dulled, and possessed a weary and puffy appearance due to immense fatigue. The glow of wonder that once blazed within them has died down to a smoldering look of calculation and suspicion- ever on guard for the versatile enemy. He had lost weight and it became most apparent in his face features. His high cheekbones jutted out, leaving his swollen, red eyes sunken and slitted. The black forest of stubble that claimed his chin and cheeks contrasted sickly with his pale and pasty pallor, almost as shocking as the combination of his gaunt face and his the nearly purple bruise-like circles beneath his eyes.

' Definitely not the best I've look.' He chuckled to himself as his bloodshot eyes slowly and reluctantly dragged themselves open. Harry sat up gingerly, his head spinning more quickly than the Turkish twist he'd been on once at one of Dudley's birthday parties. A low pitched buzz filled his ears and his heart raced with rushing blood as he stood and staggered inside, taking the stairs slowly, pausing halfway up to shake his head violently in an attempt to rid himself of the impending dizziness.

'It's not looking too bright for you.' A nasty cynical voice in his head hissed with conviction. It was that particular voice that he'd come to viciously detest, as it was the same cynical and despairing voice that kept him wide awake, sick with worry at night. It was his uncontrollable negative, and pessimistic side that had a tendency to dominate his mind. Irritation flooded him as he told it shut up, another routine he had developed.

' Maybe I'm going insane, Oh that's just lovely, just what I need, as trip to Saint Mongo's… you know they say talking to yourself is always the first step, though I suppose everyone does it…'

He wasn't in the mood for these nonsense ramblings. The door to his room was ajar revealing the odd trinkets and marks of wizardry it contained most precariously stuffed into his trunk and cauldron. The fresh breeze had blown a few bits of parchment into the hall and he stooped together them. One was from Ron, another from Hermione, which brought a smile to his parched lips. He'd be seeing them tonight and how good it would

be to be back with his family, his two dearest friends and the Weasleys. The last parchment was from the beautiful and highly unattainable Virginia Weasley.

' Oh Ginny…'.

Her fine-featured face and lustrous mane filled his mind's eye and his heart gave an involuntary twinge while his stomach somersaulted. He knew he'd done the right thing by breaking their relationship off and distancing himself from her, but by no means did it make the separation any easier. He missed her with every fiber of his being, and yet he knew he had to let her go… somehow…

' It's for the best Harry, let her be happy with someone that she can grow old and die with. You can't be so selfish as to love her and make her promises that you won't be able to keep. '

He squatted and reached for the last parchment and with dulled interest noticed it was the

Certificate that the ministry had sent him alerting him to the fact that last night he became a full-fledged wizard, and was officially able to use magic outside of school. He stood… and his head spun like a top sending him collapsing to the wood floor.

Passing out was strange, these days it was not uncommon for him to do so at least once a day. When it happened his eyes remained open and yet blackness blotted his sight, his brain felt muffled in darkness and yet his thoughts still came, slow and steady.

' See…. now there…. you go again Harry….sleep….. I need sleep…" His stomach would flip at this time, ' How the hell…am I…. supposed to kill…. whats-his-face… Voldemort…. Grab the gun…..no wizard, remember…. Oh yeah….gotta…save them…. Can't… sleep…. No… Voldemort…' And then just as suddenly as it has come his vision would clear along with all his ridiculous, dim-witted schemes on how to kill lord Voldemort. He often lamely wished that one day he'd walk into Flourish and Blotts and there it would be How to Kill the Dark Lord, his problems instantly solved- the wizarding world saved. Of course, millions of wizards and witches were waiting for him to publish that book.

'A fairy godmother wouldn't be too bad either,' he mused, ' My wish is to kill Voldemort… Fairy godmother…that's rich.' He laughed sorely, and took a moment to curse his burden. Harry always did things the hard way, why would that change now?

He was worried. No, actually he was bloody downright terrified. Panic filled him as it always did, almost every twenty minutes, when he remembered what was expected of him. What his dead second and third fathers, Sirius and Dumbledore, would have helped him accomplish.

He has mourned Dumbledore's passing for quite a time, which explained some of his weight loss, until he realized the great wizard would not want him to dwell on the past, but instead to honor those sacrificed and not let their deaths go forgotten and unjustified.

At seventeen he it was his undesired destiny to kill the darkest wizard alive. How? He has no bloody f-ing clue. He didn't ask for this, he didn't want millions of wizards' lives depending on him, but there was no choice. He, Harry, wanted Voldemort dead more than anything… but he no matter how much he lied to himself, deep down he knew that he was not yet ready to give up the comfort of friendship and peace for a life of chaos. He was not prepared to face the greatest wizard alive magically either. But he could not afford to be self-centered, he knew that fact well and yet he just couldn't help but wish…

And in all reality, he couldn't even afford to die.

He had to survive because if he died at Voldemort's hands, who else would stop that abominable demon? It was on his shoulders, and he had no leads, no strengths and no ideas as to how to kill the dark lord and survive.

' Just stop Harry, okay? Stop it. I want to see him gutted and hanged and I'm going to be the one to do it… it just takes some time to formulate a strategy.'

But he didn't have time! Time was of the essence, it was running out. With each day Voldemort's followers multiplied, and he grew stronger, and at the same time the wizarding world had true no leader in the war, causing it to fall deeper and deeper into chaos and panic each day and it seemed that Harry was indeed weakening, at least physically…. Think damn it! There had to be a way… but no… the answer he needed so desperately continued to allude him…

'Just shut up! You're the one making yourself so sick! Shut up and sleep, do you hear me? This is me telling me to sleep! Now! Just shut up!'

'Ron's coming to get me and I need to pack, I don't know what to do… I have to kill him but how? Maybe Hermione has a hunch, yeah she always does… but this isn't her problem. God, what would Dumbledore do… he'd… I don't know! He'd know but I don't…'

' SHUT UP DAMN IT!'

And strangely enough a long forgotten peace fell over him, heavy and smothering and for the first time since Dumbledore's death Harry Potter fell into a deep slumber…

Sorry about any grammatical error I've made-please inform me of them! I know it's a bit slow now, but keep reading and I can promise you one hell of an adventure!


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